


The Streets Were Paved With Broken Souls

by Wizardchester91



Category: Original Work
Genre: Domestic Violence, Drug Use, Drug-Induced Sex, Eating Disorders, F/M, Forced Prostitution, Homelessness, Multi, Past Child Abuse, Probably a ton more...this is not a fun story, Rape Aftermath, Running Away, Self-Harm, Shoplifting, Teen Pregnancy, Teen Romance, Underage Prostitution, troubled youth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2018-07-18 22:18:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 7,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7332919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wizardchester91/pseuds/Wizardchester91
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three lost souls wander, Fighting for their lives on the gritty streets of Los Angeles, California. <br/>Tink, 13 and running from the frying pan into the fire.<br/>Raven, who just wants to belong, and someone to believe her. <br/>And Sneaks, Who is escaping from himself. <br/>Nobody ever tried to save them. But maybe they can save each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tink

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not going to lie. This story is not a pretty one. Every scenario that will happen on these pages is one that happened to me, or someone I know. It happens on the streets every day, in broken down apartments, in abandoned places. At the end of this work I'll put a list of numbers and outreach stuff. Ok....let's get to it.

I blink, bleary eyed. The street weaves in front of me and I try not to hurl. Vomit's not attractive. And that's what I have to be... Attractive. Pretty. Jailbait. 

  The word pounds in my head making me sick again. It might be the drugs, too. It's the only way I can do this anymore. I'm 13 damnit. I think I am anyway. I've forgotten my birthday. Could be next week, next month, next  _year,_ for all I know. Not that it matters. There's no party in my future. No cake. Never was. Mom's birthday present was always cold coffee and a narrow eyed stare, before once again loudly wishing she had aborted me. 

And Billy..his presents are new work clothes, a line of something, a nasty, sloppy, meth-mouth kiss. Im too high right now to think when the last time that happened was.

I forget what he gave me tonight. Something Pills. It's all I'm allowed. "Snortin' an smoking will fuck up your pretty face. Shootin' fuck up your pretty body." He says, before tossing a bottle of Candy at me. Candy. The name makes me shudder involuntarily. 

If I were sober I would be wondering how I was so stupid. How I believed anyone actually gave a shit about me. Thank God I'm not. I don't get paid thinking about how I hate myself. 

A car rolls up. I take a deep breath and hitch up my already short skirt, my creamy thighs glowing in the moonlight. The denim feels rough under my fingertips. The window rolls down and a man stares at me, eyes crawling across my body. I swallow vomit. Count to 10... Lean forward, my B cups smooshed against the door. Brush my blonde hair out of my eyes, try not to cringe as he follows my hand. I need more pills. 

"Going somewhere?" He says. So cliche. 

"Maybe. I could take you somewhere though." Billy taught me code. Keeps the cops away. Billy taught me everything I know, how to be a good little Whore. 

"How much?"

"Depends what you want." I hate this. I pretend to adjust my top, flashing my nipples, and his eyes nearly bulge out of his head. Perv. 

"I want your pretty little mouth." 

My stomach flops. Good thing I didn't vomit. "$35."

He nods and I climb in, popping Candy when he isn't looking. I sink into an abyss, and can ignore what I'm about to do. 

An hour later I'm back in my spot, two crisp 20's in my hand. He paid an extra 5... I can actually eat tonight. That is if I don't puke it up. Maybe He'll come back tomorrow night. 

I walk to a trash can, bend over, and jam my fingers down my throat. The vomit climbs up and out, splattering across the top of the trash can and onto the ground. I heave, more and more of my own self disgust pouring out of me. Semen, pills, booze, and half digested lunch. Puke the ugly out. 

I started this ritual the first time Billy asked me to have sex with his "Friend." Bulimic. Such an odd, loaded word. 

I sink to the ground and cry. Don't mess up your makeup. Don't let them know you are just a scared, fucked up kid, popping pills and giving head behind the bus station. Never mind that you are only 13. Nevemind that you sleep on a broken down couch in a Drug Dealer's house. 

I wanna go home, but there's no such thing. 

Three hours, 2 John's, and a purge session later and Billy is here to pick me up. 

I breath an audible sigh of relief at this. I hate him, hate him with a Passion, with everything in me that is even capable of hating someone. But yet I still go back to him. Maybe I'm scared of where I would be without him. 

Too much thinking. Need another pill. Fucking Billy always shows up when I'm coming down. 

"Ready to hang up your wings, Fairy girl?" He says, a play on my street name, Tink. I had a real name at one point. Real names are dangerous on the streets. Billy made me get rid of it. 

I roll my eyes. Of course I wanna go home. Wherever that is. I hate this, this dirty Street corner that reeks of weed and skin. This place that, if it isn't the bottom, is pretty damn close. 

"How much did BabyGirl make?" He asks, reaching for my bag before I'm even buckled in. 

I make a mistake in telling him to wait. His hand is on my hair, pulling hard, and I'm trying not to cry as he slams my head back. 

"How fucking much?" He hisses. 

I pull the wad of bills out. "I got lady shit in there." I choke, fumbling for an excuse. "Here...eight hundred. It was a slow night." 

Inside I'm screaming. 

"If I find out you're holding shit..." He warns, and my stomach flip flops. 

"No baby. I Ain't....promise." 

I wanna go home. 


	2. Sneaks

The music Hums, One-Two beats in quick succession. I'm here for a job. The smell of Liquor, Sweat, Sex, and party food fills the air. 

My pockets are loaded. Weed, Pills...whatever anyone wants. Bout the only thing I don't sell is Roofies. Fuck that. 

So how did I get here? Surrounded by drunk and stoned rich kids, in a random ass house on easy street? 

Good fucking question. And if you're looking for a sob story, you sure as fuck ain't gonna find it here. 

I laugh to myself. These rich brats with their cars, trust funds, massive fucking bedrooms... And yet they wear stupid outfits, dye their hair, as if the ungrateful turds wanna be like...well, like me. If only they knew I was living in a Tent, scrounging for scraps like a stray fucking dog. Imagine the looks on their sorry faces. 

The strobe lights cast weird shadows, throwing everything under it into shades of blue-green-pink-yellow-purple-blue again. The floor is vibrating as the ear splitting notes of Dubstep fill the house. I groan inwardly. Crappy kids. Crappy music. Crappy life. 

A redhead girl walks up to me, pupils already blown like saucers, wearing a bra, and a fucking Tutu. Ravers...some of my best clients. 

"You got any E?" She slurs. 

I nod. Reach for the pocket of my trenchcoat. 

"How...how much?" Comes out in a rushed mumble. If this exchange wasn't so habitual, almost scripted, I would have struggled to understand her. I give her a price and she nods, stuffing sweaty bills in my hands. I don't count em. The dumb slut overpayed...not my problem. 

She wanders off and I make my way to an available bathroom to take a piss. There's a couple fucking in the bathtub. I ignore them. When you work enough parties you get used to shit. 

My leak taken, I escape out the back door for a bit. The music isn't so loud here. I rub my head, messy black locks sticking up in odd directions; my signature. 

The party drones on, by the time it's finished I am about $500 richer. Well...in reality about $100 My boss gets most of it. I'm just a street punk. A low-life dealer. And I learned at 15 that's all I was ever gonna be. 

I hop onto my Moped, Cramming the helmet down over my head. Fast travel, cheap gas. 

Home sweet homeless. The faded, patchy tent, the sleeping bag,  worn and lumpy...stained pillows. A small pile of blankets to fight the desert winter. I guess I could have it worse, like the guys that sleep at bus stops. It's a big tent, supposed to fit four, and I have a child's tent tied to it for storage. An igloo box for food storage. 

It's funny how if you are homeless for longer than a week or two you start to acquire shit. Honestly, this life could be worse. I can go where I want, do what I want. It ain't easy...but it's OK when you get used to it.

3 years. I've had three years to get used to it. My foster parents kicked me out at 15, said I was dangerous. 

I grab a granola bar and sigh as I crawl into my tent. Welcome to life.


	3. Raven

 They say everybody has their own personal heaven. 

I guess that's true. I just haven't found mine yet. I've sure found a lot of hell. 

I peek out from under my blanket, watch the sun rise. That's one of the few good things about living like this. You get to see some pretty cool shit I guess. 

With a groan I slide out from under the makeshift shelter I threw together last night, a tarp and three wood pallets wedged together. Not exactly comfortable but it works. There's a few others here in this abandoned building and most are already up and moving around. I can hear their shuffling footsteps, broken voices. 

A little girl, Cindy, whimpers somewhere to my right. It's not right for a kid her age to be out here. There's a couple arguing down the hall. I'm pretty sure he beats her. 

I shake my head and make my way down to the ravine behind the building. I find a spot, do my business, head back. It's odd how repetitive life is in a place where everything is always changing. The people that slept here tonight may not be here again for weeks, their tired faces disappearing from the mind. Nobody has names here. Not unless you really trust someone. 

Trust. I've always wanted to be able to trust someone. I used to...

I make my way to my locker. Somehow there is an honor code here and everyone has a place for their stuff. I guess this place used to be a gym or something. I pull out a change of clothes and sneak off to the bathroom to get dressed, making a mental note that i'll have to find a way to do laundry soon. There's no way to take showers here, so I make do with what I've got. 

Food is surprisingly easy to come by here. Everyone goes to food banks, picks the best for themselves, and whatever they don't want goes into a community pile. I go to my private reserves, pull out a cereal bar, bag of dried fruit and a Leftover Coke from last night and sit down at one of the tables. 

Not the best breakfast, but at least I can eat what I want. I'm lost in my food, sucking absently on a pineapple slice, when I realize there's someone beside me. 

A boy someone. 

I roll my eyes, turning to him, bloodshot brown eyes, messy blonde hair, and a stupid Skater outfit. "What do you want, Silver?" I ask, almost bored. 

"Raven...hey. So I got my food stamps this weekend... Wanna get something at 7-11?"

No. No I don't. 

"I'm already eating." 

"Maybe lunch then?"

I roll my eyes. "I'm going with some friends to lift shit at the mall."

He raises an eyebrow. Not many know about my talent. I started studying sleight-of-hand when I was a kid, and surprisingly good at it. 

 I leave before he gets a chance to ask further questions, gritting My teeth. I'm not sure why Silver bothers me so much. Honestly guys in general bother me. But I've got places to be. So I grab my bag, hop on my bicycle, and go. 

I'll start by saying im not a thief. I promise I'm really not. But you do what you gotta do. 

My friends are waiting for me a short ways away from the mall entrance. Trick, who is homeless like me, can manipulate people with how he talks. It's weird. Sarah is from a suburban neighborhood. Her parents pretty much let her do whatever, as long as it doesn't damage their spotless reputation. 

Last is Trigger. If I had a boyfriend, even wanted one, it would be him. 

Lemme give you a bit of back story. Everyone on the streets is running from something. And what I'm running from...well it was bad. Really bad. And Trigger was there when no one else was. 

I park my bike, and laugh as I'm enveloped in a hug. "Hey guys. What's up?" A flurry of talking is my response, like pigeons flapping around. 

" I'm getting my GED. I graduate next month-" 

"-Omg Sasha Kingston threw the most Kickin' party and-"

" your stepdad was arrested." 

I freeze. Actually we all do. " What?" I ask, suddenly breathless. "Charles... What?" My stomach is swirling. Maybe I can finally go home, end this nightmare. 

Trigger took my hand, his green eyes soft. "Your sister showed up at school with bruises. She told...same story." 

My world is spinning. How could mom believe her....but not me?

"And mom...mom believed?"

He shook his head. Fuck. I can't let my sister go through this alone. "Let's hit a few marks...then I gotta go home."

 


	4. Tink

I wake up, my stomach aching. I need...

What do I need? I'm just a kid. I really don't need any of this.  I should be in school right now, doing... I dunno.whatever normal teenagers do. I shuffle to the mirror...my collarbones protrude, my eyes look hollow, dark. I can't remember the last time I smiled or laughed. 

I drag myself into the shower, wash the stink of the LA streets off my skin. I run my hands over my skin, bruised and pale and broken like the rest of me. An electric shock runs over my body and for a moment I'm in another hell, far away. 

_"Look at you. nasty little piece of shit."_

_she sways, looming over me, bottle in hand, stinking of piss and booze._

_"Leave me alone," I beg, knowing how this night is gonna end again._

_"Fuck you. don't talk to your mother that way you little bitch."  She swipes at me, clawed hands bony and hooked like some nightmare creature, stained with tobacco and heroin. I duck, avoiding her gaze, slit-eyed and filled with hatred. "You go to fuckin school, stupid little whore, wearing those classy fucking uniforms I paid out the ass for. Think you're something better. You ain't shit."_

_I bite my lip...crying only makes it worse. she drains the bottle and then slams it into my ribs, causing me to grunt in pain._

_"Fucking die already." she hisses, spewing foul breath into my face._

_"You first." I think in reply._

I sink to the floor of the tub, tears mixing with the water. Ragged, shaking breaths rip through me. Don't let no one hear you. I jam my fingers down my throat, choking, vomit heaving up and spilling over my body, warm and thick. an instant rush of dizziness and euphoria fill me. Puke it up. all the bad, all the ugly. maybe someday I can puke up my memories.Maybe one day I can puke until I'm so light I just float away from everything. I smile dizzily at the thought. 

I wash the puke down the drain and finish my shower, stepping out onto the tattered towel on the floor. Weight. What's my weight. Am I light enough?

I pull the scale out from behind the toilet. Three breaths. Step up. 95. I need to skip breakfast. I need to purge more. panic grips me for a moment before I remind myself I can do this. I slowly pull my clothes on that billy set out for me today. Crop Top, booty shorts. bows for my hair.  I gotta look cute, look like a little girl. I wanna be sick. 

Sometimes on the weekends Billy makes me stay off the streets. the johns that come in are Pedos, nasty old men that want to fuck a little girl. 

I try not to think about it. i dig in my tampon box, counting how many I have. Six of the tubes have 40 dollars each in them. almost $250 dollars. If billy knew I was hiding that much money from him he would kill me. But I can't live like this forever...one day I have to get out of here. 

Billy yells for me from the living room. I sigh and finish my makeup.


	5. Raven

Alexis. My little sister. I stare at the ceiling after my lifting run, dizzy and sick with worry. How could a mom do this to not just one, but  _both_ of her daughters?

Now I know I can never go home. I can either stay like this, in this broken down building or make a better life for my sister and I.

 

Trigger said mom gave her three weeks to find a place to go. I fondle the satchel that never leaves my side. a few pictures of dad...my real dad, the one who cared, the one who was murdered. and all of the money that I've gotten from the lift jobs. about $2000 dollars. See, it's kinda complicated how it works. this guy, Billy, gives us a list of shit he wants. some is stuff he can resell, some is clothes for his prostitutes. so we go and steal the stuff for him, and he pays us or gives us drugs. 

I gotta go pick up my pay, and since I'll be in the neighborhood, I'll go see if I can get my sister to come with me. 

Again, the same evening routine,just like the morning one. Time seems to drag on, carrying wreckage with it like some hideous slime creature. finally time to go.

Trigger borrowed his girlfriend's car, and for some reason there is a twinge of jealousy at that; though I'm not sure it has to do with the fact he has a girlfriend, or the fact she has a car. 

"You ok?" He asks quietly as I get in, quirking an eyebrow. 

"Fuck if I know. my sister is gonna be homeless because my mom is a selfish cunt. I gotta go rescue her, Trig." I exhale sharply, causing the hair that usually hangs in front of my face to flop forward. 

He stares through the rear view mirror at me. I know he wont let me down... he was there for me when this all was happening to me.

"Alright. get you a shower at Billy's place. you startin to get a little funky." he pinches his nose and waves a hand in front of his face, pretending to cough. I laugh and throw a pen at his head and we both dissolve into laughter as he drives off toward our first stop. 

......

Billy's house isn't much to look at. A beat up piece of crap with a junk car in the driveway, a pickup truck on the street, and usually five or six bikini laden  girls lounging around the living room. 

This time, there's a new girl. She's tiny, and looks scared. I look over at trigger and he's looking at Billy with fury. For a moment I'm confused at what's going on...the little blond head bobs, and I realize she's probably drugged. and then it dawns on me... she's here as Jailbait. Trigger smooths his face over, strides over to the girl, feigning disinterest. he grabs her by the cheeks, pretending to look her over. 

"When did you get this one?" he said, almost bored. the girl looked so sad and sick. 

Billy laughs as he counts out our money and throws in an eight ball for each of us. "That's Tinkerbell. little mama came runnin up to me crying bout her mama mistreatin her. so's I said I'd give her a job."

I wanna scream. she's so young, and frail... and suddenly words are leaving my mouth faster than I can stop them. " Keep my cut. actually, dont ask me to do shit for you anymore. my cut today is payment...the girl comes with us."

Billy glares and stands up as i grab the girl by the arm and pull her off the couch. Trigger looks shocked. 

"You sure you wanna burn me, Raven?" Billy snarls. I nod. "Fine. have the little bitch then. she's too needy anyway. I catch you round here again I and my boys will pop ya."

I nod to Trigger, dragging the girl behind me as I leave that house for the last time.

A few minutes later he comes striding out, a pissed expression on his face.

"What the fuck was that, Ray? you could have gotten us killed!"

I look down at the girl, blinking blearily and moaning. "I couldnt leave her. now let's go get my sister."

He shakes his head. "You're fuckin crazy."

"Where am I? Where are we going? Where's billy?" the panic in her voice was unmistakable. I smoothed her hair, trying my best to comfort her. 

"It's ok. You are safe now. You are gonna go home."

 

 


	6. Sneaks

  Bossman doesn't have a job for me tonight. I usually get two or three nights a week off, i assume it's because somebody else paid him. Not that I really give a shit. at least I don't have to put up with stupid whiny kids tonight. 

  Los Angeles. the city of angels. I don't have a fucking clue why they call it that, seeing as I've never met anyone in this dump that could be remotely described as angelic. City of privileged brats?  Sure. City of drunks and tweakers? Definitely. Then again maybe I'm just looking through the wrong pair of eyes. 

Maybe I should try the pair of eyes that belong to the cat that is currently staring into my tent. 

_meow._

I stare at it. I really don't need a furball. 

"Get. shoo. go...somewhere." I spit at it. It blinks and runs off a short distance. Thanks cat. I absolutely wanted to be woken up at 7:00 in the morning. 

I yawn and climb out of my tent, walk a short ways out from under the overpass my tent has been perched under for the last six months, and go piss behind a bush. The hum of morning traffic is almost musical in a way. Everyone rushing to jobs, or homes, or wherever else. Being homeless most of my teenage life, I've never understood that rush. sure I would love to have a car, but I've got my bike. Bossman pays the insurance as part of my cut, and keeps the cops from busting me. Really it's all I need. 

A fellow homeless guy yells at me from the freeway above me. Gestures as though asking for a smoke. I nod, and reach into my tent for my knife and my pack of smokes and Lighter, lighting one and inhaling deeply as I wait for him to make his way down to me. When he gets to me I make a point of letting him see my knife, and he nods, takes the smoke, and backs away slowly. there won't be any trouble from him. 

There's something about the first smoke of the day, especially when you don't have much. I keep my amount of shit to a minimum for two reasons. One, It makes it easy to move when I have to. Two, i don't wanna look like a pathetic piece of crap pushing a cart full of junk down the street. I smoke in silence with my fleeting companion, he nods, puts his smoke out in the bucket of cat litter nearby. Hey. just because I'm homeless don't mean I can't be classy.  I turn and start packing my bag: soap, shampoo, other bullshit. Even homeless guys have to stay clean. Unfortunately not a lot of us have a means of doing that. 

I nod to the man, older than me by what looks like about 40 years, and throw my backpack over my shoulder before starting my moped. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------

_Knock knock._

"Hey....sandy...open up." I sigh and stand at the door, My moped parked in the driveway of a disheveled looking stucco house. I once called this place home. Once. 

The door swings open and a waspy woman, skinny from hard living and drug use, stares at me with arms crossed. her blonde hair is short and choppy and sticks up all over the place, her brown eyes yellow from smoking. A tattered nightgown is draped over her frame. 

"What do you want Jake?" she says roughly. 

I cringe. I'm not jake. I haven't been him for a long time. "It's Sneaks." I correct her.

She rolls her eyes. "I ain't calling you by that bullshit name. You told me your real name. whether we together or not that's what I'm gonna call you."

I shake my head. some things never change. and some things do, whether you want them to or not. "Can I come in?"

She laughs, runs her hands through her hair. it used to be longer. "Yeah. lemme guess, you need a shower?"

I nod and she gestures me inside. "I got hot coffee if you want it. Tom's asleep. he'll be pissed if he finds out you were here, so don't use any of his shit." 

I sigh. Tom. the guy who snatched her up not two weeks after I was gone. I'm shocked she's still with him. I grunt a thank you and head towards the bathroom.

_I miss her,_ I think as I step into the shower.  _She loved you. you fucked it up._ My mind angrily replies. You would think, with as big of a place as Los Angeles, that losing ay kind of past would be as easy as a slight change in location. The hot water stings the small cuts and scrapes on my arms and legs, but I accept the pain. I pull the knife from where it sat in the pocket of my jeans, which laid in a heap by the sink. slowly I draw the blade across my inner thigh, watching intently as a ribbon of blood winds down my leg and disappears in a swirl of water at the bottom of the tub. My heartbeat pounds in my ears and I inhale sharply. 

Everybody in this city has a kink, a vice, something they can't kick. This is mine. The pain, the blood. It's better than the noise that would be inside my head without it. 

I get the bleeding to stop, and finish my shower.My clothes on, i throw my dirty ones in my bag. 

There's a plate of food in Sandy's hand as I step out the shower. 

"Here. Figured you could use a decent meal." her eyes are so sad, so beautiful. 

"You...you didn't have to."

"Goddamnit Jake. Just take it."

I don't correct her this time. I just quietly take the food, sit down at the table, looking up at her to be sure it's ok to do so. 

"Tom worked late. He'll probably sleep for a while. Not to mention he got drunk again last night." she replies, and not for the first time I wonder if she can read my mind. 

I notice a faint shadow on her cheek and my blood boils. "Did tom do that?" I ask tersely. 

"Do what?" she says, her hand betraying her as it flies to her face. 

"You know what."

Her eyes are so sad, and a twinge of fear crosses them. "He was drunk...He only does it when he's drunk."

It kills me to see her like this. "Yeah. I bet he's drunk pretty often, too." I snap. 

She looks like she's about to cry. "Jake, just stop. Please, you'll wake him up."

I finish my plate quickly and head for the door. she stares as I mount my bike. "What?" I growl. 

"Nothing. Just, come by anytime. I mean it." I hear the meaning in her words and nod, before pulling away.


	7. Tink

I'm...I can't think straight. 

.....Why am I moving?

My head flops. 

Wow... I'm really fucked up. What did Billy give me?

My eyes slide open. 

A car. I'm in a car. Why am I in a car? Did I have a John? 

"Where am I? Where's Billy?" I blurt, suddenly nervous as my mind begins to clear. I was dragged out of the house... Billy was mad. Oh Shit. My stuff. Did he find the money? There's a girl beside me with pretty black hair in a ponytail. She looks like she could use a shower.  The girl turns to me and squeezes my hand. 

"It's ok. We are gonna get you home."

suddenly my mind come's flooding back. I wanna purge. Words rush out of my mouth in a blur and I'm screaming. "NO! Who are you! I don't care what she said, I'm not going back! You can't make me go back!" My breath comes in ragged gasps, panicked. The girl looks confused. She's older than me, but not by much. 

"Easy, easy there. I'm Raven...This is Trigger." She gestures to a boy in the front seat. A boy. I'm scared. Boys are bad. My mind is spinning. I have to purge.I have to steady myself...There's no way they won't see me. Panic fills me. sometimes a panic attack makes me throw up. I let it take me, breathing growing shallow, my throat squeezing, coughing and crying. Everything is moving too fast and bile is rushing into my throat. I gag and roll the window down as release pours out of me. Water, half-digested pills, bile...it all leaves in a rush to dump on the street. Raven is watching in concern, rubbing my back. She could never understand... I feel so free. 

I finish, take deep breaths. I'm ok. I'm ok. Going home. Where is Home? It's not to my mother's. She never reported me missing. I know. I checked, so many times, back when I was young and stupid and thought I could make her care. It's not with Billy. They are taking me away from there. So where is Home? That magical imaginary place? 

I steady myself. "I..I need my stuff..."I say shakily. Bad. bad, bad bad. I can't shake. I can't look scared. When I speak again my voice is level, robotic. Perfect. "Where are we going?"

Raven smiles. "I gotta go get someone. One more person. Do you want a sister? She's about your age..."

I shrug. I've never had a sister. How should I know if I want one? And Raven isn't my mother. I don't have one of those. "You aren't my mom," I say quietly. 

She looks hurt. "I know. But I wanna help you."

I look at her confused. "Why? No one cares enough to help me. The last person who said they did forced me to be like this." I tug at my outfit.  _Don't cry. Don't you dare show them you are sad and angry and scared,_  I scold myself. Raven just bites her lip and turns to the boy in the front. "Drop me off, and Take her back to Billy's. get her stuff. everything. throw out any clothes that are slutty. she's never going to wear shit like this again. I can get her clothes at the Camp."

I stare. Camp? What kind of camp? I had heard that homeless people gathered in groups sometimes. Was I going to be homeless now? Was being homeless better than being a whore? I stay silent. If I ask too many questions they might get mad. The smiles might fade. Echoes of  _Nosy Bitch_ and  _Stupid Cunt_ ring through my head and I shrink down in my seat. 

We drive in silence for a few minutes before pulling up to a small house. Raven sits and stares, and Tigger (I think that's his name?) gives her a sympathetic look. I guess they are dating or something. Finally she sighs and gets out of the car, striding up to the house. Where are we? 

Oh crap. I'm alone, alone in a car with a guy...

"Come on, let's get your stuff." He says. I like him....there's something nice about him. "OK."

 


	8. Raven

As Trig pulls away with the little one in the car, I stare at the place that used to be home. It's funny how many different meanings the word Home actually has. You would think it wouldn't. Like, it's such a simple word. I take a shaking step up the driveway. Another. Mom's car is gone...she's probably at work. 

_OK. You can do this. You have to. She needs you._

I knock. After a minute there's an answer, the door opening slowly and my sister stands in front of me. 

"Raven?" She's breathes, eyes wide. 

I nod, tears in my eyes.

"Mom...mom told me you were dead...she planned a funeral..."

I bite my lip, wounded. She really hated me. "Obviously I'm alive," I say bitterly. 

She nods, hugs me. Invites me in. I ask if I can shower, she nods and I gladly do so. Hot water mixes with my tears as I do so. So many memories. I grew up in this house. I shared a room with Alexis as long as she's been alive. 

When I walk out of the bathroom I run my hand along the wall, feeling the memories fade under my fingertips. 

"Why did you leave? Why did you come back?" My sister is crying. She's pulled a box of my stuff from the Attic, is handing me clean clothes. I take them numbly, my arms stiff. 

" Lex, I know what Charles did to you." 

She freezes, looks scared. "No. No he didn't... Did he? Mom said I can't tell anyone... She's kicking me out cause I said...." 

"I know. That's why I'm here." 

She stares at her feet. "Where will we go?" 

"Don't worry. You'll be safe. I got a place." 

She looks at me skeptically. "You have a place?"

I smile and nod, walking through the living room. "So many memories here." 

Alexis nodded, a tear in her eye. "Remember that time we ate all of those special chocolates mom had bought for Christmas, so we hid the wrappers behind the couch?"

I laugh, the memory of chocolate smeared all over my sister's face filling my mind. "Oh my god, You were so sick that weekend!" 

We laugh some more and head to her room to start packing her stuff, remembering the old days and the crazy stuff we did when we were kids. when dad was still alive. As she steals the suitcases down from mom's closet, a box falls, scattering papers across the floor. We panic, rushing to put everything back. I find a photo of dad and us, standing at Redondo Beach Pier. "Oh my god... I remember that day." I say wistfully as I show her the photo. She smiles. I had forgotten how much I loved seeing my sister smile. "You got soaked...we saw dolphins and you tried to run in after them." I laugh at the look she gives me. 

"Hey, I found birth certificates...and school papers. We need this stuff right?"  She asks, holding up a folder with her name on it. I nod and hand her my satchel. "Stick it all in here. Whatever you find... too bad mom probably took her purse when she left."

A sly smile crosses my sister's face. 

"What?" I ask with a questioning look. 

"She took her purse. but not her wallet."

I blink. holy shit. is my sister turning out like me more than I thought?

A giggle escapes her. "I have her wallet hidden in my sock drawer. I was gonna leave today anyway...empty out her bank account before I left." 

I'm genuinely shocked. " Holy shit...Lexi...that's genius."

Our moods increased, we finish packing and say goodbye to the house of tainted memories, just getting the last suitcase to the curb before Trigger pulls up. 

"He's cute." She whispers as she climbs in beside Tink. I smile, just a little bit closer to heaven.


	9. Sneaks

    The fresh cut on my leg stings. I have a medical kit back at Camp, but honestly, that place is the Last place I wanna be right now. Instead I drive angrily, feeling my jeans stick to my leg, feeling the blood trickle slowly.  Nothing close to the dull ache in my chest. 

For a moment I try not to think, and it's just the hum of the moped underneath me, the road ahead of me. cars whipping past. I don't even know where I am going, Ijust know that the further away I get from  _There_ , the less I'll feel.... this. whatever it is. Fuck feelings.  

And that's what I decide to do.  I switch lanes, heading to a place I haven't been in months. A place where I can lose myself, forget reality for a few hours. A place where dirt and sex and Messy people are commonplace. The flow of traffic almost agrees with me, and I lose myself in the wind, the smell of LA. It's really not that great of a smell actually. 

I pull into the Driveway of Billy's place, surprised at the commotion in the yard. a strange car in the driveway, A young girl sobbing on the porch with a bruised face. As I park my bike a kid comes out with a duffle bag, puts it in his car, and turns to me.

"Who the fuck are you?" He asks, warily. 

I pull off my helmet. "Not in this. Just looking to score."

I drag myself up the driveway after locking my bike, and the girl grabs my pant legs as I brush past her. Her eyes are glazed, and she's so skinny it's almost heartbreaking. She stares up at me, and I just kinda nod. Whatever. not my problem. I walk in and Billy is pacing the living room, gun in hand. 

"Hey man. What's going on?" I ask cautiously.

"Fucking bitch. I get this new girl right, and I bring her in, Teach her the ropes...one of my other Dealers is running off with her. So, why you here...you know I dont have nothin for you."

I shake my head. I wouldnt begin to understand the world of my Higher ups. Honestly I hate having higher ups at all. 

"You can't just get a new girl?" I ask, pulling out my lighter and a cigarrette, having to settle for nicotine for the time being. 

He slumps into the broke down couch, drawing up a line of something and I watch like a begging dog as it dissapears up his nose. God I'm pathetic. I don't get high. But I need something....something to get the image of Toms fist colliding with sandy's cheek out of my head. 

"Nah. I cant get another one like that. Not real easy. Maybe you can do something for me."

I raise an eyebrow. Billy and I aren't friends...at all...but we respect each other. 

"What you want?"

"I want you to track the dealer who took my girl. Find him, kill him, bring the bitch back." 

I hesitate. I dont kill. I just sell shit. I killed once....it was how I got here. 

"Why me?" I ask as he- thankfully- passes me a blunt that I know damn well is laced. Sure enough, Ice and fire spread through my veins and I cough, my mind Sharp and hazey at the same time. 

Billy squints at me. "Cause you'll do it."

I stare."why?"

"Cause the next two houses you work for me I'll let you keep half." 

I think on it for a second. "Who is he and where do I find him." hey....dont judge. I need the money. 

Billy starts to fill me In. 

 


	10. Tink

  I'm scared. 

I'm scared and everyone can see me.

I'm a little bit calmer since purging, but It's not Enough. 

Tyger...I think that's his name... Is looking at me as we pull back up to Billy s house. I Don't want to be here. I don't want to be here. 

"C'mon.. let's get your stuff."  

I shakily crawl out of the car, hugging myself. I don't care about looking put together.if he finds the box... He can't find the box.

Panic rises in my throat again. " I have to go to the bathroom...get my stuff I think.."  I stumble to the house, my head and stomach twisting as I stumble to the bathroom. I search frantically under the sink, I can't breathe, I can barely think.  I gag, leaning over the tub, my throat burning and nothing comes out. I gulp some water, not realizing how thirsty I am. there's a knock at the door and Trigger calls my name, asks if I'm ok. I choke out an " I'm Ok" And steady myself, trying to distract myself, not think about the palpable anger I feel from Billy. 

I dream up what this "Home" would be like, as I pull my makeup bag, hair stuff, and Finally, the tampon box out from under the sink. It's still here, and none are missing. My hand brushes the pocket of my jeans and I feel....cash. holy shit...the three hundred from the last John. I forgot to give it to Billy...I wonder why he didn't take it from me...Then again he's High right now...I stuff the money in the box and throw it in the trash bag with the rest of my stuff. 

Will there be other people? will I be safe?With that money in my pocket I'm in danger, I'm so scared.... 

Trigger already has my clothes... or half of them anyway...stuffed into a suitcase and is carrying it down the hall. "Stay close to me." he hisses, I nod, crossing my arms, head down. I can feel the bones of my wrist, my narrow arms, my collarbones poking my chin. I follow behind Him, not looking up, my head is pounding... Suddenly Billy grabs me and I'm screaming. he snatches at me, at my pockets, Screaming at me. "Gimme MY SHIT!" Trigger pulls him off of me but not before pain lances across my vision as a fist collides with my face. Tears well up and I can't help myself..

There's a click and a loud bang. I scream...I wanna go home. I wanna go back to the pills...I wanna go away. The Boy and Billy ar arguing then he grabs my arm and drags me down the porch and sits me on the curb. I mumble where the pills are,and my purse...the purse my blades are in. Oh yeah...did I mention I also cut? He nods and runs back in, carrying my little metal lunch tin and my purse. a motorcycle pulls up. I know him...It's Sneaks, one of Billy's dealers. He doesn't know me...I usually hide from the dealers. Plus Billy kept me a secret. I grab his pant leg as he brushes past me,Wanting him to see me, wanting him to know I existed.

Tigger is back, snarls at Sneaks, Then turns to me. "You got a name?" 

I blink. A name? I told them my name. "I told you...Tink."

He shakes his head. "No. A real name. So I can see if you are in the system."

Tears sting my eyes. "I'm not.No one is looking for me. No One wants me."

_I'm nine years old again, standing in the doorway with my backpack on, crying, the rain pouring outside._

_"You don't....You aren't my mommy." I yell, and her hand slaps across my face._

_"You Ungrateful little bitch. Go on then, Run. Go see if your spoiled little brat friends want you when you're filthy and homeless."_

_I hesitate too long and she grabs my arm, nails digging in and bruising me. I scream in pain and she swings me around, throwing me into a wall. Her hands are on my Throat and I'm screaming and choking._

_"You miserable piece of shit.." She slurs. "Go ahead and run from me. Go ahead. No one will want you, No one will look for you. You are nothin and nobody. Just another piece of shit runaway brat who ends up in jail. You'll end up on drugs, a whore, and pregnant. and if you come back here, I'll kill you."_

 

The car is moving. actually, it's been moving...It's stopping. Raven and a strange girl stand at the curb. I guess this is my New sister. weird. I went from nobody...to a family. at least until they leave. 


End file.
